Everything
by PersianFreak
Summary: Stand-alone one-shot set after Dead & Gone. The dam bursts...


_**Everything**_** by PersianFreak**

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Charlaine Harris. Please don't sue.

Rating: T

A/N: Random one-shot, set after _Dead and Gone._

"Sookie," Eric smiled graciously, like my presence in his office was a surprise.

Like I was there of my own free will.

Like he hadn't sent Pam to get me and told her to refuse to leave until I surrendered and allowed myself to be driven to Fangtasia.

"Eric," I smiled in mock delight, my frustration rendering me bitter and sarcastic.

"How lovely to see you," he commented, the delighted look not leaving his handsome features.

I put my hands on my hips, clearly defensive, and said, "I would say the same, but it's hard to be happy to see you when you _send someone to fetch me_!"

"Hey!" Pam complained lightly, shuffling some papers off of Eric's desk and into an open folder.

"Don't even pretend to be upset," I shot back. "You have no problem with doing his bidding." Pam tapped one of the sheets and held out a pen that Eric used to sign it with before shutting the folder and sending me a displeased look as she walked out.

"You're unhappy," Eric observed.

"Very astute. I can see those vampire senses have really helped you develop a keen ability to observe."

"I don't understand why you're upset, Sookie," he said, leaning back against his desk and apparently ignoring my sarcasm.

"Why am I _upset_?" My mouth hung open. "I'm upset because I never see you! I'm upset because you've been gone for a month. I'm upset because you never call me, and when I _do_ receive a call from Fangtasia, it's usually Pam asking me how I am. And Goddammit, Eric, I'm upset because our entire relationship is based on_ when you __**feel**__ like seeing me!_"

Eric frowned, the warmth in his eyes dissipating, "That's enough, Sookie."

"No, it's not!" I was keeping the tears at bay, the sadness and the desperation and the intense loneliness I had felt in the past few months harnessed by my anger and frustration. "You're so freaking full of yourself, Eric. You think you can come and go as you please and I won't say a peep because you saved my life and you're good-looking and great in bed. You think you can get away with it because I _let_ you get away with it, and the more you do this, the more my gratitude towards you gets trampled." I sighed, feeling myself lighten with the breaking of the figurative dam. "I needed you that night, and I don't know why you weren't there but you made up for it because you fought for me and I was _so_ grateful. And then you were there for weeks afterwards until I got used to you being there, but now that's over with, too. Why can't you just make up your mind, Eric? When are you going to learn that it's not enough to be there half the time, that sending roses every week is sweet but it's not enough when it feels like it's all the effort you can spare to keep me happy?"

"I'm King," Eric blurted when I paused to breathe.

"Come again?"

"The night I wasn't there..." He began reluctantly, "I was in Vegas. Fighting. I was fighting against De Castro because I was done with him, I was done with feeling threatened and done with your well-being being threatened because he felt like a new plaything and I wasn't willing to hand you over on a silver platter."

"Eric..." I tried to continue but he wasn't finished yet.

"In attempting to ensure your freedom, I couldn't be there to save your life from a much more... immediate threat." My vampire smirked, "The irony is not lost on me."

"Eric, please tell me you didn't stage a takeover all by yourself _just _for me." I begged, feeling my heart stutter.

He regarded me wordlessly for a while, "Well, Russell and Stan were with me. Stan took Nevada, Russell took Arkansas." I waited for him to continue, but he didn't.

"You didn't _want_ to be king," I sighed, saddened.

Eric shrugged, "No, I didn't. And it is a great responsibility, but it was worth it." I sunk down onto his couch, staring unseeingly at the carpeting. He had_ taken over the state_... for _me_. How does one even attempt to wrap one's head around such a thing? He had risked his very long life, his thousand years of existence for my barely-three decades. Sitting down on the coffee table in front of me, Eric clasped his hands and waited for me to process all the information he had thrown at me. It felt like too much, too much he had done, too much I had felt, too much we had kept to ourselves.

Too much and not enough.

I snapped.

"I want this." I told him suddenly, catching him off guard. "I want you. I want more than just the weekly flowers and the random gifts and the occasional nights. I want more than just a marriage of convenience and pretend affection to keep danger away from me. I want... you."

Eric looked shell-shocked and a small part of me was pleased that I had managed to elicit an emotional response from him. Quite honestly, I was shocked with myself. I had come within inches of telling him everything I felt, not that I had managed to venture far from it either. My utter disbelief at my willingness to admit to such things was only marred by the absolute fear that gripped me in that moment. Could I handle rejection? I feared myself too fragile to handle such a blow. I was still far from stable ever since I had been tortured by Neave and Lochlan and the only thing that had held me together so far was the way Eric had cared for me in the two weeks immediately following my kidnapping and the battle between my Fae captors and my friends and family. The battle, I tried to not remember, that had ended in the deaths of Claudine and Tray and, almost, Bill. Eric's expression was sombre now, his trademark calm mask having replaced his earlier reaction. "Okay."

I had to rewind that in my mind and try to absorb it a second time. "Okay?" I let out a careful, shaky breath.

He leaned forward, "You want more? I'll give you more." Dear God, let me not die of a heart attack right now. Was he serious? Moving to the seat next to me, Eric pulled me into his lap and pushed my hair back from my face, nuzzling my cheek. "I'll give you all of it, Sookie. Everything." I felt myself relaxing into his arms, my heartbeat accelerating for an entirely different reason as I leaned in to taste his lips. "It's all yours anyways." He seemed to mutter to himself and I felt my heart give a squeeze. I released his hair from its low ponytail and ran my hands through the golden strands, stroking it back from his face and leaning my forehead against his. Tilting his head, he kissed me, the kiss deepening this time as we made love on his couch in desperate thrusts and whispered moans.

"Marry me," he whispered a while later, twirling a piece of my hair around his fingers. "It doesn't have to be now or anytime soon, for that matter. Just promise me that you will, in your world as well as mine. I'll keep asking until you're ready, Sookie, but for now, just promise." I fought back the irrational panic at the absolute commitment he was asking of me and cupped his face in my hands, placing soft kisses on his cheekbones and nose and forehead.

"I promise, Eric."


End file.
